


Crowley's Adventures With Chronic Pain

by Meghann985



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Chronic Illness, Crowley Has Chronic Pain (Good Omens), Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Hatred, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Suicidal Thoughts, author experiences chronic pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meghann985/pseuds/Meghann985
Summary: Crowley suffers from chronic pain and Aziraphale helps him.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 139





	1. Politicians are Bastards With a Capital B

**Author's Note:**

> So i decided to try my hand at writing this trope because i was feeling bad about my own experiences with chronic pain.

Crowley had lived in pain for years. Being a snake in human form came with a whole host of issues. These included hips which dislocated easily, knees which wobbled every way possible and ankles which it was best not to mention.   
It was after Armageddon and Aziraphale and Crowley had settled down into a nice little routine. A cottage in the South Downs had been purchased for the two, and they had quickly gotten over their fear of being found out by the Almighty. The two had gotten married in a small ceremony in London. They were mostly ignored by their superiors apart from a few assignments here and there. It was perfect. The angel had enough room for his books and the demon had the space to buy some new plants to terrify. Life was perfect.   
It was a cold, dreary day in November when Crowley got the message from Hell. He had been asked to perform a simple temptation, making a politician believe that a small bribe would be beneficial to his career. Not the type of job he particularly enjoyed taking on but he had done far worse.   
Everything was going well until the politician had come to his senses and punched the demon in the face. Crowley had stumbled and fallen onto his left hip. Shit.   
Pain shot through his leg and he groaned. He tried to get up but his hip had seized up, making movement almost impossible. The bentley was outside but there was no way he’d be able to drive home in this state. He needed Aziraphale.   
He cast a minor miracle to make the man suddenly remember an appointment. A very, very far away appointment. The only way to help himself would be to get his husband. He slowly wiggled around enough to reach his mobile phone. Sighing, the demon quickly typed in Aziraphale’s phone number.   
***   
Back in the cottage, the angel was just settling into his favourite hobby (reading and drinking tea, of course) when the phone rang. This wasn’t unusual since the PPI claims people had gotten a hold of their number. Aziraphale sighed but dutifully got up to answer it.   
“Now, I’m getting rather sick of this. I have never had a credit card so-”   
“Angel, it’s me. Can you come and pick me up please?” The demon sounded weak and in pain. It was rare for Crowley to ask for help so he was worried. Very worried.  
"I'm coming, darling. Hold on"  
Aziraphale closed his eyes and tried to feel Crowley's presence. He found it and honed into it before disappearing in a flash of blue-white light.   
He materialised in a large office and immediately spotted his husband. He was curled up in a ball and tears were streaming silently down his face. The angel was at the demon's side faster than was humanly possible. He began to stroke Crowley's hair softly, whispering soft encouraging words.  
"Sweetheart, is it okay if I carry you out to the car? I'll be careful not to hurt you but we need to get you out of here," Aziraphale murmured "I'll take you home and get you comfy in bed, does that sound okay?"  
Crowley nodded feebly and allowed the angel to pick him up. This was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The husbands get home and Crowley gets upset. Trigger warning for some slight suicidal ideation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I've been off school since Wednesday because i'm having a really bad flareup so I might be able to get another chapter up this week.

The angel managed to carry Crowley out to the car and gently placed him on the passenger seat. The demon groaned and made small pained noises. This worried Aziraphale. It took a lot for Crowley to actually show his pain.   
Aziraphale had learned to drive back in the 1950’s purely because he was bored. It came in handy sometimes but mostly he used public transport. Being an angel, he always kept to the speed limit and followed the traffic laws, unlike his husband.   
Once they were back at the bookshop, Crowley was yet again carried from the car up to bed. Aziraphale lay him down on the soft mattress and placed a small kiss onto the demon’s forehead. Then, he left the room to make some nice tea.   
Crowley currently felt as if his joints had been set on fire and then put into a blender. Every time he moved the pain would shoot up his back and down his thighs. He sighed before miracling up a pair of crutches and some codeine. It wasn’t fair to rely on the angel for everything, so the crutches would allow him some freedom and independence. He hated the things but sometimes they were necessary.   
Sometimes he hated the Almighty. It wasn’t fair that he had to live like this. He hadn’t asked to be a snake. Very little about it wasn’t awful. Why should he have to be in pain all the time? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair. He felt a tear run down his cheek and he angrily swiped it away. Pathetic.   
At this moment, Aziraphale walked in with two steaming cups of tea. He sat them down on the bedside table and gathered Crowley into his arms. He rocked them back and forth, shushing the demon who had begun to sob the moment Aziraphale had begun to rock. He brushed his fingers through the ginger locks in an effort to calm him.   
“I’m sick of this angel, I hate it, what did I do? I wish I was dead, it hurts so much. She hates me. I can’t suffer this anymore. I’m sick of hurting, please make it stop! I can’t take this anymore, Aziraphale, please!” Crowley was screaming at this point, he seemed completely out of his mind. He was sobbing as if his heart was breaking and shaking like a leaf. His head was pressed into Aziraphale’s chest.   
Aziraphale had doubted his faith in Her very few times but this was one of them. Watching the man he loved breaking his heart because of how much pain he was in would shake even the strongest believer. He had to do something.   
“Crowley, darling, listen to me. I love you more than anyone or anything in my life. You are the best thing that She ever created, whether She can see that or not. I can’t take it away because it is God-given but we can ease it the human way. Take some of your painkillers and drink your tea. We can watch an episode of Golden Girls while you drink it and then we can go for a nice bubble bath. How does that sound, my love?”   
Crowley nodded. “I love you, angel,” he mumbled into the angel’s chest.   
“I love you too, dearest,” Aziraphale said, before kissing Crowley’s head softly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some angst followed by some fluff. 
> 
> Trigger Warning for some suicidal thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I might finally be getting a diagnosis after over a year of tests. Some nice fluff in this chapter, and I couldn't resist the Neil Gaiman reference.

Aziraphale left to go and run a bath while Crowley drank his tea and took some painkillers. His hips were sorer than they had been for ages and at this point he just wanted everything to stop. He was sick of living like this. Everyone hated him but not as much as he hated himself. Maybe it would be better for everyone if he ended it all. He placed his head back against the headboard of the bed and wiped away the tears that were slowly running down his face. It wouldn’t do to let Aziraphale see him upset again. 

Said angel was currently in the bathroom drawing the best bubble bath that the Earth had ever seen. It was almost boiling hot, just the way Crowley liked it, and was filled with bubbles and sweet-smelling bath salts. Aziraphale was determined that everything would be perfect for his love. Once the bath was perfect, he headed back into the bedroom. He slid under the covers and put an arm around Crowley, who slid down the bed until his head was resting on Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“Drink your tea, dearest. I’ve run a nice bath for you, just the way you like it. Is there anything else I can do to help you?”

Crowley was debating whether he should ask. After all, Aziraphale had already done so much for him. He didn’t want to be a burden or a nuisance. But the angel always said if he wanted anything to just ask. He took a deep breath. 

“Will you read to me?” 

Aziraphale looked taken aback but then a huge smile crossed his features. “Of course, darling! I’d love nothing more,” He said, before adding, “What will I read?” 

“The Ocean at the End of the Lane? Please?” Crowley was looking at him with big, pleading eyes. How could he say no? 

“Alright sweetheart. We’ll get you in the bath and then I'll read to you while you relax,” He said. Then he kissed Crowley softly before scooping him up and carrying him through to the bathroom. “Can you manage to get undressed while I go and get the book?” 

Crowley simply nodded and took a seat on the rim of the bath. Tonight would be nice and cosy, just him and his angel.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff to finish off this fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry it's been so long since the last update. I'm finishing the fic here because I don't know where else to go with it but I may edit it at some point in the future. Thanks for reading!

Crowley had slept quite well that night, snuggled into his angel, soaking up the heat and love that radiated from him. His pain woke him a few times, but Aziraphale was there with soft words and even softer kisses to lull him back into a slumber.   
The next morning, the smell of coffee roused him. He stretched and tried to stand up, before hastily sitting back down with a cry of pain. He roughly ran his hands through his hair. Then he reached over for the crutches that sat there. 

God, how he hated those things. It was amazing how much two metal sticks could change someone’s perception of you. One minute you were just a normal person, the next you were an object of pity, or even worse, scorn. People loved to police disability. A young (sort of) man, who could walk one day but needed help the next? Impossible! Aliens, government conspiracies, and vaccines causing autism, on the other hand? Perfectly plausible! Humans were fickle creatures, and he didn’t think it would ever make sense to him. 

Sometime during his thoughts Aziraphale showed up, carrying two cups of coffee. He set them on the nightstand and kissed Crowley tenderly on the head. 

“How are you feeling today, darling?” the angel asked. 

“I’m okay, still a bit sore, angel. I’ll need my crutches,” he sighed softly, before adding, “I don’t want to go out today. Just want to stay here,” 

Aziraphale nodded. “Very well dearest, whatever will help you. Do whatever you have to and then get back into bed. Is that okay?” 

“Sounds perfect,” 

***   
They passed the day watching television, sleeping, and reading. Crowley’s pain was slowly easing as the hours passed, so slightly it was almost unnoticeable, but easing all the same. He knew that it would settle back down by the end of the week. Then the two would go back to their normal routine, until the next time Crowley had a flare. 

And then, Aziraphale would be there to help him. To offer support, to hold him, to comfort him. To love him. 

For all of eternity.


End file.
